


1681

by flippyspoon



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Questionable music choices, iPhone apps, unreasonable suspension of disbelief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:51:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4432745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flippyspoon/pseuds/flippyspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas and Jimmy accidentally swap phones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1681

Saddling up to the bar, Thomas ordered one more vodka tonic and sighed heavily. The Cavalier was hopping and plenty of men had expressed interest. Thomas had collected a few numbers. Unfortunately the stupid part of his brain (or more likely the stupid part of his cock) had taken over and decided that only one man would do; the adorable smirking blond holding court in the corner and playing his little games with everyone, dancing with one man only to snub him for the next and all the while winking over at Thomas occasionally, yet never speaking to him.

 _Fuck this_ , Thomas thought. _I could have anyone I want._

Too bad what he wanted was a bit of a challenge.

He fiddled with his phone at the bar, being careful not to let it sit in any errant puddles of booze. He flicked through some pictures on a couple of different dating apps, grimacing, and snorted in derision.

“You won’t find anyone good on there,” a deep voice said behind him. Thomas briefly pictured someone tall and dark and was startled for a moment when the blond appeared. “Trust me. I’ve been looking.”

Thomas pursed his lips, tapping his fingers on the bar, undecided if he should play along or punish the arrogant little punk if he showed any interest.

“Won’t find anyone good in here,” Thomas muttered.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. You’ve been staring at me all night,” the young man said, all too happy about it. “I’m Jimmy, by the way.”

“Thomas. Huh. Didn’t think you’d noticed me,” Thomas said, raising an eyebrow, and keeping an eye on his phone so as not to look overly invested. “You’ve been having so much fun over there with all your theatrics.”

“Ha, oh trust me, if you were talking to those idiots you’d be playing too,” Jimmy said, picking up his own phone and scrolling through something half-heartedly. “Upper-class morons the lot of them. Can’t hold a decent conversation if it’s not about, I dunno...investment banking or whatever it is they’re into.”

“Oh yeah, who’d want a rich bloke?” Thomas said, sipping his drink. Both their phones now lay forgotten on the bar. “Can’t think of anything worse.”

“In theory maybe that’s a grand idea. But I do have standards.”

“Yeah, that’s why you’re talkin’ to me right now.”

“So confident.”

“Very.”

“Hmm. Well, have fun with your confidence. I’m going home.”

“Oh, c’mon! Just like that?” Thomas hated that he sounded a bit pleading. He’d thought they were getting somewhere.  “I’m not an upperclass moron.”

“No,” Jimmy agreed. “You seem interesting. And you’re gorgeous. All the more reason, to be honest. We’ll just be disappointed in each other later.” He tossed Thomas a wink, grabbed his phone and left. Thomas watched him head through the crowd of men and out the door, still stunned.

“That’s no way to live,” Thomas mumbled. Though given his own unlucky history in love, he couldn’t summon much of an argument.

Thomas sat staring, as he finished his drink. If someone who seemed so immediately perfect for him had given up on love, what hope did he have? Or perhaps that was the vodka talking. He threw back the last of it and closed his card, slipping his phone in his pocket. He was just buzzed enough for his melancholy to have muted slightly and he hummed as he walked home, but scowled at happy couples giggling on their delightful Saturday night.

It wasn’t til he was back in his flat, collapsed on his couch with a pint of chocolate chip mint, that he picked up his phone again and, pressing the home button, saw that the wallpaper on his screen was unfamiliar. It should have been a pretty beach in Greece. Sometimes the only thing that kept him going to the bars and flicking through photo after photo was the thought of getting lucky, not with sex which was as easy as picking up tea at the store, but with actual love. He imagined going on holiday, stretched out in front of a bright blue ocean next to someone wonderful who would be beautiful and clever and funny and sweet. Someone he could look after who would in turn look after him.

 _And I thought that would be the snarky blond?_ Thomas chuckled to himself. _Must be drunk._

That Jimmy didn’t look like he needed looking after in the least. He’d probably breezed through life getting whatever he wanted and put on his little jaded front when it suited him.

“What’s wrong with my phone...” Thomas said to no one. Instead of a Grecian beach, the wallpaper was a picture of Kylie Minogue. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

He was expecting to enter his passcode as he swiped his thumb over the screen but instead it unlocked easily.

This was not his phone.

He flashed on Jimmy tossing him a wink, picking up his phone, heading through the crowd of men…

“Oh _fuck_.”

The smart thing would be to take care of it immediately. Maybe Jimmy had gone home, but maybe he wasn’t asleep yet. He must’ve realized he had the wrong phone. Maybe he would return to the bar. Thomas should return too. But he had no desire to move and instead he fell asleep and dreamed of lying on soft Grecian sands beside a complicated blond.

* * *

 Thomas slept late into Sunday morning, waking up with an awful tasting mouth and in an awkward position on his couch. He groaned and staggered to his feet, muttering obscenities as he remembered the incident with the phone. Jimmy’s phone was dead now. Of course, it was identical to Thomas’s so he let it charge in the kitchen as he made his way to the bathroom, yawning. He treated himself to a long hot shower and twice the usual amount of toothbrushing. He lazed about in bed in his robe afterwards with a strong cuppa and several episodes of a new reality show about plastic surgeons who all seemed to hate each other. Later while making up a second cup of tea, he noticed the phone was almost fully charged and he picked it up absently on his way back to bed.

He had no particular compunction about snooping into Jimmy’s phone and after all, a grown man with Kylie Minogue wallpaper really couldn’t judge anyone about anything.

Thomas went straight for the photos. There were lots of selfies; most of Jimmy vamping, a few hilariously awkward, a couple sort of endearingly silly. There were random photos of seeming strangers in public doing embarrassing things; a man scratching his behind while a little boy who happened to be standing next to him cried, a stuffy old man in a suit on the train with chocolate all over his mouth, a street mime who appeared to be screaming at an ice cream vendor. They made Thomas chuckle. There were a few pics of a pretty older woman who must be Jimmy’s mom with her deep blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair, a few of the man who must be his father and had an impressive mustache, one old picture of the three of them when Jimmy was little. He made for an absurdly adorable kid. Jimmy must’ve scanned it into his phone. So he cared for it.

“So not totally jaded,” Thomas said to himself. “Ha.”

There were some photos of clothes in shop windows, things maybe Jimmy hoped to buy, Thomas supposed. No pictures of friends though, that was a little interesting. Then Thomas hit some sexy pics of Jimmy, full nude shots that Jimmy likely sent to prospective lays. Thomas put the phone down, finally feeling he’d crossed a line.

_What a body though..._

Since he’d come across the photos “accidentally” he didn’t feel too badly about wanking.

But he didn’t allow himself to do it while looking at the pictures.

 _That_ would be too far.

He came just before the phone rang.

Thomas lit a cigarette, thinking he would ignore it, as he was still coming down from his orgasm.

Then it occurred to him that Jimmy might try to call his own phone, though obviously from another number since Thomas wisely used a passcode.

So Thomas picked it up.

“Ah...hello?”

“Oh, hello, Mr. Confidence. See you found my phone.”

“Why hello, Jimmy,” Thomas said, pleasant as ever. “And who’s fault is that? You walked away with mine.”

“I _know_ that.”

“How do you not set a passcode on your phone? Anyone could use it.”

“Well, that worked out, didn’t it? You answered it.”

“Yeah but-”

“Well, where do you want to meet so we can trade?”

“Um...”  Thomas rubbed his eyes, still a bit groggy. That man certainly had a sexy voice. Christ.  “Wait a tic. Tell me, what do you do with those pictures of people being stupid on the street? You sell em’ or something?”

“You looked at my _pictures_?”

Oops.

“Um-”

“I can’t believe you!”

“Honestly, how do you not use a passcode?”

“That’s no excuse! What’s _your_ passcode?”

“Ha! I’m not tellin’ you now.”

“Oh really? Well, I’m not givin’ you your phone back til you give it to me. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”

“Not sure that applies.”

“Yes it does. What’s your passcode! I’m not foolin’, Thomas!” Somehow though they were fighting it still sounded nice to hear his own name on Jimmy’s lips. It was so familiar. Funny that.

“Look, I’m very sorry I looked at your pictures,” Thomas said. “That was a...breach of privacy. I apologize yeah?”

“What. Is. Your. Passcode.  No phone until you tell me.”

Thomas never quite sussed out what possessed him to tell Jimmy his passcode instead of outsmarting him. If he was truly honest with himself, it was instinct. Instinct tended to betray him generally, but this time it was his best pal. And instinct told him to tell Jimmy his code.

“One six eight one.” Thomas squeezed the bridge of his nose.

“Lemme guess,” Jimmy said. “The age you lost your virginity and your birth year?”

“More or less yeah.”

“Damn. Bet I could have guessed it.”

“Well, you’ll never know now, will ya?”

“ _Jesus_.”

“What?” Thomas snapped. He had an urge to throw Jimmy’s phone across the room now. Only if he broke it he’d never get his own back.

“Nothin’ just… Lookin’ at your pictures-”  
“Fantastic.”

“Eh...is that really your cock?”

Thomas blushed crimson and smiled to himself. “Yeah.”

“Huh. Well done you.”

“Thank you.”

“Alright,” Jimmy said breezily. “I’m goin’ to look at this for a while and uh...I’ll get back to you.”

“ _What_?”

“You’ll get it back. When I feel like givin’ it to ya.”

“Jimmy.”

“It’s only fair.”

Thomas took a deep breath. It didn’t do much good. “Don’t you _need_ your own phone?”

“Huh. No one I’d want to talk to is callin’ me anyway,” Jimmy said.

“Well, maybe people call me-”

“If I get an important message, I’ll let you know.”

“Jimmy!”

“Bye, Thomas.”

“FUCK.”

Jimmy hung up and Thomas lay back, staring at the ceiling, wondering how one lousy night in a bar had come to this. Though that strange instinct had him less worried than he would normally be over such a predicament, as if he wanted nothing more than for this stranger to see his most intimate secrets. And there was no denying that his phone probably held his most intimate secrets if one looked hard enough.

“Might as well get somethin’ out of it myself.” Thomas finally dressed for the day and walked down to the corner to treat himself to a couple chocolate croissants. He spent the the rest of the day eating sweets, drinking tea, and listening to 90’s indie rock while exploring the world of Jimmy Kent’s phone. He was careful to savor it. He had barely made a dent in the pictures and that promised to be one of the most enjoyable parts, so he browsed Jimmy’s apps for a bit. He started with the Kindle app. Jimmy had a penchant for thrillers, especially spy thrillers, and anything during the Cold War. They weren’t cheap airport novels either. There was a lot of John le Carré and some authors Thomas had never heard of.

“Alright fine,” Thomas muttered. “But your music will be rubbish.”

Some of it was anyway. There was a lot of the type of pop and dance music that usually made Thomas want to plug his ears, but there were also some of his personal favorites and some classic rock, hip hop, 90’s alternative, and a lot of soul and R&B.

“Jimmy likes Al Green!” Thomas murmured to himself. He hooked the phone up to the portable speaker on his nightstand and played the Al Green while getting up to fetch some cigarettes and more tea. As Thomas had expected, Jimmy had a ton of dating and hook-up apps. Thomas glanced at them and quickly felt a rush of jealousy, and even more so seeing that Jimmy liked his men tall, dark, and broad. That boded well anyhow. He had apps for fitness and fashion, a couple of which Thomas had on his own phone, though Jimmy’s fashion taste was a little younger, at least it was good taste. Thomas had attempted to dress dates suitably before. It usually led to fights. The phone vibrated, signaling a text. It was from Thomas’s phone.

**Who’s Sarah?**

Thomas answered: **Friend/co-worker. You aren’t talking to her, are you?**

**No, I’m reading your texts. She sounds terrifying.**

**She is.**

**Your texts are funny. You two don’t stop bitching.**

**Shut up.**

**No, it’s hilarious!  “Crawley still thinks bluetooth is a cavity for rich people” LMAO. You have shitty taste in men though. Brainless losers.**

**Not all of them.**

**They’re always asking you to explain your jokes.**

**Philip got my jokes.**

**Oh yeah him. Saw his texts too. Seems like a twat.**

**Eh I’m a twat.**

**So am I but we’re working class twats.**

**Trust me, I haven’t got much love for the upper classes but Philip was alright. You’d like him.**

**Doubtful.**

**Jealous?**

**Maybe.**

Thomas grinned at the phone. He had no idea what texts Jimmy might be seeing. He hadn’t talked to Philip in ages, that he could remember. But after some years since their epic break-up they weren’t on unfriendly terms, and that was saying something. Maybe that was enough to make Jimmy jealous. Thomas couldn’t think of any other ex he still spoke to. The only other one that had mattered was Edward and he certainly wasn’t available. Not in this life. Abruptly Thomas wondered if Jimmy could suss out Edward on the phone… Maybe, if he bothered to look into the email.

“Facebook,” Thomas said with a sigh. He only used it to catch up on gossip. He almost never posted anything. But if Jimmy dug in he’d see Edward’s death, then Sybil’s, and the mountain of sympathy comments from people who hardly spoke to Thomas normally.

_This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done._

He put the phone aside for a while and watched some telly. No one had texted or called Jimmy all day. Not that it meant anything. Only he seemed like the sort that would have plenty of friends and family after him. The popular boy. Maybe one morning and afternoon didn’t mean much. Thomas couldn’t help himself-he picked up the phone again and browsed Jimmy’s recent calls. Nothing for days. He’d been holding out for the texts but now he looked and saw that the last several were Jimmy accepting or rejecting dates with terse replies all around. He got caught up in one exchange during which Jimmy kept trying to engage some idiot in conversation but the asshole just kept sending dick pics and begging for one in return. So Jimmy had sent one. The asshole responded with a lot of filth, and filth was just fine generally only this was rather...degrading.  But Jimmy had agreed to a date anyway.

 _You still don’t know him_ , he reminded himself. _He’s just as likely to be the asshole too._

Thomas tossed the phone aside again.

Twitched.

Picked the phone up again, scrolling through texts with abandon.

_Christ, Jimmy, don’t you have any friends at all?_

The whole thing made Thomas so sad he couldn’t even enjoy the two hot young surgeons fighting over a Welsh lady’s nose. Thomas was jolted from his reverie by a knock on the door.

He didn’t expect anyone and he certainly didn’t expect Jimmy looking fresh and cute, if uncertain, shuffling his feet. Thomas was both happy to see him and disappointed. Was he regretting all this already? Had he read something on Thomas’s phone that had put him off?

But all Thomas could say was, “How’d you know where I live?”

“Uh...your address was in a food delivery app.”

“Oh. Uh...do ya want to trade phones already?” Thomas had an urge to hide Jimmy’s.

“No! Um…” Jimmy licked his lips and shrugged. “I texted from down the street. I was on my way to the shops and saw you lived nearby and uh…”  
“Yes?”

Jimmy shuffled in and took Thomas’s hand gently in his own, urging him forward. He tipped his head up and leaned in to kiss Thomas’s lips. It was tender and soft, and certainly not the type of kiss Thomas might have expected from someone into constant casual hook-ups. It made Thomas wonder what on earth Jimmy had read on his phone that might prompt it.

“I just wanted to do that,” Jimmy whispered. “Is that alright? Just that. But not more. Sorry, I-I don’t want to-”

“Yeah,” Thomas said. He squeezed Jimmy’s hand to reassure him. “Uh...wait, sorry. Finish that sentence. You don’t want to what precisely?”

“Don’t want to rush.” Jimmy smiled, gazing down at their hands. “Want to savor this?” He looked up then, tentative, as if waiting to be laughed at.

“There’s a this?” Thomas blinked stupidly.

“Yeah. If you’d like I mean. There’s a this.”

“Alright.”

Jimmy kissed his cheek then and rested his forehead there for one moment that made Thomas wish he could hold it in a bottle.  “Stay by the phone,” Jimmy said.  
“Try and stop me.”

Jimmy smiled and reluctantly let go of his hand, stepping out, and closing the door behind him.

* * *

 Thomas spent his evening elated. He watched all of Jimmy’s favorite YouTube clips (people falling down, pop star interviews. The Voice, some darkly funny comedy, more people falling down, and some ironic montages of horrendous movies) and his favorite shows on Netflix (cops, serial killers, hot guys with superpowers, a few vampires).

Jimmy texted him while Thomas was caught up in Peep Show:

**You got some texts, I forgot to tell you.**

**Who?**

**Sarah has your weed. I said hello.**

**Oh no.**

**She had a hundred questions. She was VERY suspicious.**

**No shit.**

**Sorry.**

**It’s ok.**

**Daisy reminded you to pick up Alfred at the airport tomorrow.**

**Fuck.**

**Haha.**

**Just text back a yes.**

**Check. Phyllis wants your RSVP for Joseph’s birthday. She wanted you to know Bates is coming.**

**Bugger. Yeah alright. Ugh.**

**Lol check. You really love your friends, don’t you?**

**Eh.**

**Can’t wait to meet them given your enthusiasm.**

**I’ll bet. Jimmy- what did you see that made you come over?**

**I’ll tell you later.**

**Dammit.**

**You’re really cute when you’re grumpy.**

**Then I must be bloody adorable 24-7.**

**Bet you are. ;-)**

**I’m going to look at the rest of your pics now.**

**...ok**

Interesting response. Thomas let it hang. He scrolled through photos. More selfies- some typical, some attempts at being artsy or serious with carefully chosen filters. There were several pictures of a carousel in a park that was unfamiliar to Thomas. Hmm. Finally, Thomas found a friend of Jimmy’s. Maybe. Hard to say. Three photos of an older woman; she looked well-to-do, attractive enough, and she was smiling genuinely into the camera. An aunt? Very curious.  He texted the picture to Jimmy:

**Who’s this?**

**Ah… Ms. Anstruther. I worked for her.**

**I don’t have pics like that of my boss.**

**It got sticky.**

**Aha.**

**I tried to be straight for a second.**

**Interesting choice.**

**She’s alright. Bit daft. Helped me out when I was in a bind though. Forgot I had the pics honestly.**

Thomas kept swiping through but took a bit of time with each new piece of Jimmy. His name was Kent, Thomas had discovered.  He was near the end of the pictures when he came to the big reveal, or it seemed so to him anyhow. First there were landscape photos of  a cemetery.  A few random pictures of trees. Not particularly special trees. Just your average trees, as if Jimmy was delaying the true subject of his little shoot. Then the headstones. Two side by side, identical and sticking proudly up out of the ground.

Annabel Kent

September 2, 1968 - June 14, 2014

Beloved wife and mother.

Archie Kent

January 11, 1965 - May 7, 2014

Beloved husband and father.

Jimmy’s parents, Thomas thought. They must be. He stared at the picture and it took a moment for the dates to sink in.

“Jesus…”

Jimmy’s parents had died just a few weeks apart. Thomas wondered what had happened there. Maybe there’d been some kind of accident and his father had died immediately and his mother had hung on for a bit only to eventually die.  The discovery made Thomas want to know more. It was time to go into the emails. That felt like a bold move. But he suspected Jimmy wasn’t holding back on his end.  He scrolled through Jimmy’s email all the way to May 2014.

_To:[JKent1227@gmail.com](mailto:JKent1227@gmail.com)_

_From:[MollyMouse@gmail.com](mailto:MollyMouse@gmail.com)_

_Subject: re: Please come help_

_Jimmy,_

_I’m still mourning Archie of course, it was a terrible shock.  I’m sorry I couldn’t come for the funeral but I was in New York and couldn’t make it back. Unfortunately I can’t manage to come out for more than a visit. I’m full up with work and the children and Richard’s just getting over a terrible flu. What’s become of Annabel’s friends? Is no one around? Please let me know how you are doing. I’m sorry I can’t do more. I can send a little money if needed._

_With love,_

_Molly_

__ Thomas saw no reply and nothing further from anyone about Jimmy’s parents outside of one brief exchange with someone who sounded like one of Annabel’s disappeared friends. Busy, too busy, everyone was busy. Jimmy sounded like he was doing a fine job but if he needed anything…

Thomas hadn’t thought to look at drafts, it was only the slip of his thumb that led him to stumble on emails that Jimmy never sent.

_To:[MollyMouse@gmail.com](mailto:MollyMouse@gmail.com)_

_From:[JKent1227@gmail.com](mailto:JKent1227@gmail.com)_

_Subject: re: Please come help_

_Molly,_

_No of course you can’t come out, why that would be loony. Almost as loony as your brother’s wife dying of breast cancer and him getting smashed in a car wreck. Fuck you and your kids and Dick cause if mum was ever right about him he’s the one telling you you don’t owe us anything. Mum’s friends? Too scared to be around. Dad’s friends are bloody useless too. No one’s here but me and the bloody nurse. But flowers definitely fix everything so thanks a lot. Fuck you fuck you fuck youuu, you amazing cunt._

_Jimmy_

__ _To:[MollyMouse@gmail.com](mailto:MollyMouse@gmail.com)_

_From: JKent1227_

_Subject: re: Please come help_

__ _I don’t know what to do please come. I’m begging you. Please, Molly. Mum can’t so much as speak anymore but she cries over dad. I can’t take it and I don’t know what to do. She’s dying and then there’ll be no one. Please._

Thomas closed the email app and sat back, short of breath, tears streaming down his face. He wasn’t even thinking as he dialed his own phone. Jimmy picked up on the second ring.

“Hi,” Jimmy said. Thomas’s tense shoulders relaxed hearing Jimmy sounding okay, as if he’d forgotten a whole year had passed since the emails had been written.

“Can I meet you somewhere?” Thomas said, glancing at the clock. It was ten o’clock. Thomas had forgotten to eat dinner.

“Um, alright yeah. Where d’ya want to meet? I’m not far.”

“Cheever’s,” Thomas said, wiping his eyes. “No one ever goes there.”

“Alright. I’ll make my way.”

“Good.”

Thomas scarfed down some leftover pasta in his fridge and cleaned a little, changing into his good black jumper and black trousers. It was the only time he could remember leaving the house without even bothering to look in the mirror first, but he was in a hurry and all but ran the six blocks to Cheever’s. He found Jimmy at the deserted bar, rubbing his own red eyes and looking distraught.

“What’s the matter?” Thomas rushing to sit next to him.

“Oh…” Jimmy glanced up startled, and sniffed. “I found Edward’s um...suicide note a little while ago. The blog post, I mean. But I just...I just saw some stuff  you wrote in here about him and Sybil and…” He shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Thomas.”

Thomas deflated a little, the old grief washing over him in a gentle wave. “Yeah. Uh… I called you ‘cause I saw the photos of our parent’s graves. And a couple emails you wrote but you never sent them?”

Jimmy looked briefly horror stricken. “Blimey. Forgot all about those. Probably pretty raw.”

“Yeah.” Thomas shook his head. “Very. Losin’ both your parents like that and...bein’ alone. I can’t imagine, Jimmy.”

“It was less than fantastic,” Jimmy muttered, be he smiled weakly up at Thomas.

“We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

“Heh.”

“What were the pictures of the carousel about?” Thomas said.

“Oh… I used to go there with my parents when I was little. Sometimes I drive up there and see it when I’m in a mood. Had to sell the house and give away most of their things. Hardly got much left. So I drive up to the carousel is all.” Thomas kissed his cheek at that, for lack of any better response.

Jimmy leaned his head on Thomas’s shoulder and sighed. “I did this for a lark. At first. Thought it’d be funny. ‘Cause you seem so clever. Thought we’d mess about with the phones and fuck and that’d be that. Then I saw these old posts on Facebook your friend Phyllis put up? Pictures of you as a boy. She wrote about how she watched you grow up and get into trouble and fight with your father and then you ran off but you did alright for yourself. How she thinks you’re a good man. And you blew her off but you sounded like a crabby little boy when you did it. And everything else...the pictures of you and Phillip and then Edward and all those photos of you smirking next to Daisy and the rest of em’. Your break-up playlists.” He tittered. “All of it. That’s when I had to come kiss you. And just now the stuff about Sybil and Edward… I didn’t expect this to happen but... “ He couldn’t finish his point, he only squeezed his eyes shut and nuzzled Thomas’s arm.

Thomas kissed his hair. “Me too, love. Me too.”

“I don’t talk this way with anyone,” he mumbled into Thomas’s jumper.  “Not ever. It’s too hard.”

“Yeah, I know something about that.”

They ordered drinks and talked about everything they’d learned from the phones. Some of it lightened the mood for a while and Jimmy teased Thomas for the gay erotic science-fiction novels he seemed so fond of and his snobby music tastes. They joked and chattered and the mood occasionally shifted into talk about hard times and hours later they were still huddled at the end of the bar, their hands entwined.

“I think you should come over and sleep with me,” Thomas said.

“Oh, well…”

“No no, I mean actually sleep. I think it’d be nice. Nothin’ else.”

Jimmy grinned up at him. “Really? Tall order.”

“Maybe for you,” Thomas said, shrugging. “I am a rock of self-control.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. There’s a lot of porn on this phone for a rock of self-control.”

“Don’t try to tell me you didn’t watch it,” Thomas said wryly.

“Oh, I watched most of it,” Jimmy said with a laugh. “Got to know who I’m dealing with  Look, alright yeah. Let’s go to your place. Let’s sleep together.”

At Thomas’s flat, Jimmy used a new spare toothbrush that Thomas kept just in case, and borrowed pajamas that he had to roll up on his shorter frame. For a while they camped out on the couch, a foot apart at first, but halfway through _The Bourne Identity_ they were snuggled together, Jimmy absently playing with Thomas’s hands. They ate a good portion of Thomas’s ice cream stock and Jimmy teased Thomas for Instagramming particularly attractive cupcakes though he put away more pecan praline than Thomas did. Eventually they did end up in bed, side by side under the cool white sheets and staring blankly at the ceiling until Jimmy turned over on his side and leaned on one hand.

“Your bed’s very comfy,” Jimmy said.

“Thank you.”

Jimmy nodded but he had a pained look in his eyes, maybe it was how he looked when wanted to talk about certain things but couldn’t. Thomas reached up to touch Jimmy’s face, patting his lips with two fingers. “What are you sad about?” Thomas said.

“You actually,” Jimmy said. “Some of your emails and things… You seemed so lonely and blue.”

“I’d say the same about you.”

“You know, this isn’t gonna work just cause we’ve both been lonely and sad before.”

“No,” Thomas agreed. “It might work cause I _really_ like you.”

Jimmy grinned and bit gently on his Thomas’s finger. Maybe he’d been waiting to hear that. Thomas thought he’d been obvious enough. “I really like you too.”

He leaned in to kiss Thomas and pressed up against him. The kiss turned heated with tongues and fumbling hands until Thomas felt Jimmy’s cock hard against his hip.

“That does feel like rock,” Thomas whispered in his ear. “But less like self-control.”

“Alright, let’s sleep then,” Jimmy said, giggling. “You need your rest. You’ve got to pick-up Alfred at the airport tomorrow.”

“Fuck.”

* * *

 

**Six months later…**

“Post it!” Jimmy rolled over on his towel, beaming. He waggled his eyebrows and kicked sand onto Thomas’s ankles. “C’mon, Thomas. Post it!”

Thomas sighed heavily and lay back on his own towel beside Jimmy. The sun was bright, the ocean almost as blue as Jimmy’s eyes. They still had four days left in Greece. Thomas’s lips twitched as he admired the picture he’d just taken with his phone; the two of them gazing at each other, love-drunk morons that they were lying on the beach.

“So embarrassing,” Thomas mumbled.

“C’mon! Show us off! Show everybody how happy we are!”

Thomas posted the picture to Facebook and tossed the phone aside, missing the immediate demands by everyone from Anna to Phillip demanding to know when they’d be invited to a wedding.

 ****  
  



End file.
